The Most Boring Art Blog

But before I explain, you had to see the reference photo I used for the Coleus X3 study. Purple and deep greens versus the actual reds and burgundies I saw out in the yard is the difference between a cloudy and sunny day, a digital camera and reality,a digital camera and a computer rendition. I want only sunny days in my triptych, so I pushed the reds in the study, followed the photo loosely, doing no preliminary drawing and using no water. The drawing was so intense, wetting the markers would have made a mess. So much for that.





Okay. Drawing-of-the-day done.

I reserved the name for a new blog: The Most Boring Art Blog. I got the idea from Hugh Macleod, a cartoonist, wine company CEO and connoisseur, after reading his blog post "Why Most Art Blogs Fail." In a nutshell, he said: Art blogs don't get a lot of traffic, which discourages the artist/bloggers. People aren't really interested just seeing a picture, reading how it was done and learning how much it costs to make it their own. People are interested in what the artist/writers have to say about anything else. Art bloggers needed to be interesting writers if they wanted to increase their traffic.

I think he made a very good point. I also think his cartoon sales might be down and maybe his wine sales as well? He seems a bit bitter like the rest of us out here in this lousy economy not making as many sales as we'd like.

I think art blogs are boring too. Most of the ones I've visited are about making sales or are trying to teach their visitors--other artists--how to make art, which is ludicrous. Buyers, I guess could be visiting--but most of the art I've seen for sale are tiny pieces made for easy, inexpensive mailing, I assumed). Then the somewhat larger more complex works are expensive--and what they really look like isn't totally clear given the pixel translation, (Just look at that coleus photo. It's no where near the colors of the coleus I stood outside and photographed). It's scary to buy art for big bucks when you don't really know what it looks like.

My reasons for blogging were not about sales or teaching anybody anything. I started blogging: 1) to push me to drawing or painting everyday; 2)to amass a number of drawings and paintings to leave my children and grandchildren should BC win and I lose; and 3) because I'm basically out of work as a residential architectural space planner and needed to fill my time doing something I feel passionate about. My third reason was a bonus; blogging as a job, just happened. The first and second were the real motivators.

Then last week there was another bonus I never expected: my art turned out to be cathartic and therapeutic. I got rid of a lot of angst that day I lit into Summer 2009. Bottom line: art blogging has been good to me, boring a writer as I may be.

After giving Hugh's blog post a lot of thought, I thought: play up the boring blog. I registered the name. I have no idea what I'm going to do with
The Most Boring Art Blog. But it should be humorous--critique--but that could be too Don Rickles? I could invite artists to publish their most boring posts and tell why--but would they? Artists can be a lot like designers and gallery owners and collectors--full of themselves, egotistical, snobby, and totally unable to make fun of themselves. But if it was a collective blog, the contributing boring bloggers could benefit by the double exposure. Anyway, the title is mine and it's in my think tank. If you have any ideas toss 'em my way. I have a feeling this title with a funny angle would have a draw. You'd think a cartoonist would have thought of that. Lighten up Hugh.

Prostheses and Coleus, An Odd Coupling, An Odd Day

Yesterday was the first day I went out without my breast prostheses. The weather was in the nineties and just because we were going to lunch and it was Sunday and other diners would have on their best, I didn't feel like being burdened. The bra irritates the scar across my chest and the prostheses weigh me down. So I put on my Nike gym shorts, New Balance shirt, (a little see-through, but then there's nothing to see) and my Pumas. That was it. We were out the door. I was amazed how far I had come since last summer, since last week.

I've gone out before without, but I had always worn a jacket or vest or shirt on top of my tee to camouflage my situation. Yesterday, I went as I would had I never had a double mastectomy. The doing told me, I'd come through the storm. Letting loose onSummer Shade, which needs a new title now, undoubtedly helped.

In the morning, after painting Coleus Too, I went out into the yard and retook the photograph I used as the reference photo for that painting. The new photo wasn't nearly as menacing as the old--made me think I could paint that same composition again and would get a whole new perspective. Might be interesting, but enough is enough. Time heals--in just a year and a half with the help of one painting and a sudden fit of anger.

Cooled down, I turned a new leaf, a coleus leaf. I spent the afternoon processing the new coleus photos I also took hoping to find another for today's drawing and maybe two. (I've done coleus before; the painting and drawing you see on the side). I'm really liking the triptych format. And I thought Coleus would make another good subject; they are almost, but not quite as colorful as pastries, but just as much fun. I like the new painting I did this morning better than yesterday's (shown below on top). I used markers, but didn't wet them. The painting is more vibrant and cheerful. Lots of potential in those markers, a medium that's perfect for me--drawing being my strong suit, painting not as yet.

Coleus Too

DRAWING-OF-THE-DAY

Water soluble markers/acrylic painting; 9 1/2" x4 3/4"; 30 minute study



The photograph beats my new soluble markers (with just a touch of acrylic) painting. The painting would be really good using acrylics all the way. While the markers are wonderful for these kind of quick sketches, watercolors are colors watered down. The brilliance of a watercolor is the white of the paper being an integral part of the composition. The brilliance of the colors is enhanced played against white. I don't mean to knock the medium, I'm just evaluating it for where it fits in with me as a new painter, (though I was a dabbler my whole life). To me, it's a sketch medium that insists upon good paper. the cheap watercolor paper I bought doesn't hold a candle to the Arches.

I am a self taught painter and I experimenting. I majored in sculpture and design in art school. Drawing, design, sculpture classes/substrata construction, balance issues and proportional dimensioning dominated my studies. I came away thinking in three dimensions; then worked in three dimensional, spacial design forever and I'm still doing so, but less. With time on my hands (due to the housing and stock market), I'm concentrating now on two dimensional space, (painting). I'm looking for what makes me happy. Today, I decided for certain that watercolors are fun and have their use, but acrylics on sturdy framed stretched canvas supports with depth have the solid oomph I'm used to.

Take Me Out to the Crowds

DRAWING-OF-THE-DAY



The Yankees versus Tampa Bay Rays. CC Sabathia versus James Shields. Everybody came out to the park to watch the two giants battle it out in their last game together in the series. The Stands Were Packed With Fans. And that's a good title for this drawing-of-the-day, which began with me spilling my hundred new markers all over the floor trying to get them out of the box. I figured I'd test the nibs as I put them back. There's no better subject for a hundred colors than the thousands of colorful fans at a sporting event.

IN THE STUDIO



"Out of chaos comes order." Whoever said it, it's true. After being brutally pushed around, this painting is coming alive. The texture that's building up is rough. The "black" I'm using isn't really black. (Pure black is against nearly all artists' rules including mine). This is a mix of black and burnt umbra--but it still black enough to be ominous. Some of it will change the more painting that goes on; some will remain. I have no idea what will follow; I'm painting intuitively.

One Hundred Markers

DRAWING-OF-THE-DAY

Honey hadn't noticed the package sitting on the porch, but I saw it immediately.

"My markers are here!" I shouted. "Pale blues! Five shades of gray! And Umbra!" Umbra, as great a color as gray for making an initial sketch. So much promise in a box. And all the way from Italy for only twenty bucks. I couldn't wait to get it open. When I did, I stopped. There was a gorgeous rainbow of colors in a shiny plastic case, they were too magnificent. I just wanted to look at them.

In a stand--not as sturdy as the more costly graphic markers--they are water soluble. They have greater potential. But the same sophisticate array of hues--much more sophisticated than the markers I'd been buying at the grocery store. They are beautiful. I just couldn't open them to check out the nibs and the stroke. All I could think to do was draw the exciting still life in front of me. No perspective, no gimmicks, just free hand fun. Celebrating one of the greatest joys of artists: new supplies. New opportunities.

IN THE STUDIO


I studied yesterday's destruction. There was something about it I liked. It's honesty.

I really was just going to paint in a small flower on the rock (no longer there) in the lower right corner. Sign it, (one must own one's work, no matter how shocking; it could be a lead), and store it. Instead I went back in with the brown black expanding on the trees. I didn't do much. I was getting acquainted with this new world.

This morning, yellow came to mind as I flipped on the lights, but first, I had to whiten out some of the grays so the yellows wouldn't be tainted. So many trees and limbs, a barrier between me and the brightness is what irritated me the day I took the picture; play them up.

I have a philosophy: broken is broken. So before calling repair men, I try to repair things myself. I figure I could fix it or just break it more and still have to call the guy and wait for him to show up anywhere between eight and five. Might as well try. This is a good philosophy for this painting, which now intrigues me.

A Terrible Storm

It was a lovely summer's day...then the storm hit and everything turned to mud.

That's what happened to Summer Shade. I acted out.


I couldn't stand that painting another minute...so black and white came out and began mixing it up together on the canvas in broad strokes. Large house-painter brushes. Heavy paint. Scrapers. An ice tea spoon--whatever I could get my hands on, I used to obliterate those pretty trees. That's not how the woods looked to me the day I took the photograph. The trees were menacing. The blackness of the shade made me angry. The trees seemed close together with a myriad of branches, the kind that scratch if you tried to push through. For me, it was an unhappy photograph. Summer Shade was just too happy. It had to be demolished. I hit it with everything I had.

Lashing out felt good. I felt confident about my decision to shake it up beyond recognition; I had been contemplating its destruction for three days. Now, with it done, I just have to decide how to clean up the mess?

The trash bin?
I'd be out of my mind--stretched gallery canvases cost too much to throw away. Besides, my destructive feelings towards the dishonest painting were honest.

Buy a gallon of gesso?
Maybe. Even the best of us have done cover-ups.

To go back into it and pretty it up again?
Absolutely not. It was a good photograph, taken by a woman who was angry about what she had been through. After yesterday's storm, I'm not. I'm positive I should never have painted it in the first place.

After painting a colorful, tiny flower under the leafless tree, a tiny, trite, symbol of a brighter future, I could sign it,date it 2009, stand it to rest in the closet, and get on with painting Chocolate Mice and Other Delights, a delectable subject demanding a delightfully happy palette. Feels good to me.

My Pumas

Well the bear lady finished her hundred bears today. That's quite a feat. We had an assignment like that in a design course. I chose to do my purse, since I always had it with me. By the time the semester was over and the drawings were due, I had had it. If I had to look at that purse in one more different way, I would have considered stepping in front of a bus. The assignment served its purpose. It stretched my imagination.

When I started this blog, I thought I'd do the same thing, but after just a few drawings, I knew I did enough purses in this lifetime.

Now, shoes are a different story. Shoes I could go on about indefinitely. I gave them up for a bit--didn't want to bore you to death, but now they're back on my mind.

I just had to draw my 2010 Pumas. I've had them on my feet everyday since early April and they're starting to look it. They've been dragged around Puerto Vallarta. They've been through the hoops for weeks at physical therapy. They've been biking and boating. They've been in the studio painting, the garden weeding, the kitchen cooking. They've been to the joint on the corner for sushi and the five star restaurant on the river for their best beet salad. I just love my white with black Pumas. They cushioned my world and saved my knee. I had to pay tribute to them. --And I have to get to Nordstroms for another pair. It makes me sad to think of a day Pumaless.

Lettuce

TWENTY MINUTE DRAWING



The drawing actually took a total of thirty minutes in two sessions. One before dinner. The second, after.

I'd never drawn lettuce before and didn't recall ever seeing any drawings of lettuce. Sure apples,oranges, grapes, pears, and peppers, but never lettuce. I was making the salad for dinner and the romaine looked beautiful. I pushed aside my ingredients, set up shop and got started. After five minutes of laying down the watercolor and another ten blowing it dry, Honey wanted to know what was holding things up. I set the still life aside and went back to dinner.

Afterwards, I instructed my clean up crew,(Honey),to leave my still life alone, don't even move it. I would wipe up the counters. He was thrilled at my generosity, (meticulous, counters take him thirty minutes). Me? A Wipe and a polish and I was back doing what I wanted to do. But my still life had wilted. I spent my last five trying to get the crispness back with colored pencils. Nothing too perky happened. I put the lettuce back in the frig for tonight's salad.

IN THE STUDIO

Nothing much happened there. Two new books on Acrylic painting were delivered and I was anxious to get started bringing myself into the new millennium with all the new mediums now available for modern acrylic painters. Being as dissatisfied as I am with Summer Shade, hopefully
Rethinking Acrylics by Patti Brady,(which I am now), and
New Acrylics Essential Sourcebook by Rheni Tauchid might make me shout,"Eureka!" So after improvising with the paint left on the paper palette sheet,(pictured below), I, a strong KISS advocate, settled down to learn what's new and improved.

Too Cool To Swim

I was devastated. Here I had psyched myself up and it was seventy degrees and cloudy... I went biking in the light mist, just me and the bike totally free of gear and exhilerated as a kid. Thirty minutes later, Coffee in hand, ice on knee (in case), I sketched for half an hour--mix of this,that and the other,(watercolor markers, colored pencil, acrylic). Honey made some sort of disgruntled remark as he passed through about me making the kitchen an extension of the studio and I should go back to where I belonged. Humph. Who's the main honcho in this room anyway,I thought. Then I played around with my camera.

I've owned the digital Konica Minolta for three years. You'd think I'd know what it can do. Not on your life. But somewhere during the weekend, I had an epiphany. A light bulb went off in my head as it occurred to me that those cute little pictures Minolta uses were the same as f stops. I thought if I set the shutter speed for sunsets, moonlight or people under the stars, I could freeze (in degrees) the action when photographing from the car traveling at 45mph. And if that was true, setting it for continuous shooting,I would,with a little practice, be able to catch interesting street scenes along with some interesting happenstance shots. I couldn't wait to go to lunch to try it out. (GF I should read the manual).



We were just going down the road a piece on Orchard Lake Road. Had it not been raining,I would have opened the window, which would have produced clearer images.I should have also waited for the strip malls to come up--more colorful--but I was anxious to try out my prediction,which was right on. I ended up with a strip of stills starting at the Foxpointe Condos and ending at the PNC Bank, the entire route between Lone Pine Road to just sort of Maple Road, about three miles plus or minus. As we drove, I tried each lowlight icon. The lower the light, the less the blur.

One of the first photos turned out to be the most interesting even though it wasn't taken in an uninteresting stretch. I liked the reflection of my skirt and purse in the glass against the blurred background of the tall grasses and ragweed. That photo was shot with the sunset/palm tree icon setting. I cropped it to play up the reflection, increased the exposure and punched up the vividness. I have no idea what the burgundy is, but the skirt's mine, so's the purse. Photo has good watercolor potential.

Down to the Lake

The lake on the other side of the woods in my back yard. It's on my bucket list-- jumping in that is. It's only thirteen acres big, spring fed, with no power boats allowed. It's deep at the dock--I thought I heard a neighbor say sixteen feet; so my feet, if I tuck,will not touch the muck. But there's no raft to swim to, so I've been worried about where do I head for once I surface?

A swimming pool gal all my life--no mucky bottoms, no unseen plants and water creatures brushing against your legs or nipping at your ankles and a civilized water temperature of 86 degrees, this would be quite a courageous act for this play-it-safe gal. But it's something I think I have to do. I've lived here nearly twelve years and I haven't taken advantage of my good fortune. That's what we Jews call a shanda, a shameful thing. With the High Holy Days around the corner, jumping in the lake would be a great way to kick off the New Year--all I need is the courage--and a noodle--and a boogey board (what ever that is)--maybe a life vest...

(Double click on the picture. My lake is small,but not that small).

Long Drying Time. Do Whatever Comes to Mind Time

Same morning as yesterday morning without the hose. Painting on the floor with spray bottle in hand till forced to stop and wait for the layer to dry. A fan in the studio may be something to consider to speed up the process? Working wet on wet in acrylics, you wait for the paint to dry naturally--no hair blowers as in watercolor. Hair blowers blow the puddles and streaks all over the place. Indirect air may be an option for the impatient?

This usually impatient gal exercised. I went through all the moves I learned in physical therapy. PT was a great experience. Not only did I learn what I had been doing wrong for the last ten years, but I learned what moves were right and good form. My therapist didn't like personal trainers when I asked if I should hire one. He said there was only one accredited program out there and only the trainers who had gone through that were worth their pay. I don't recall what the program was called, but the trainers had to be re-accredited every year via ongoing education, just like Chris--and me, a kitchen and bath designer. He didn't consider the majority of what he called hack trainers to be competition. Their clients usually became his clients. He waspretty sure of himself. I liked that.
As I finished with the light weights, I was grateful that Chris didn't think we had to kill ourselves with aerobics--stretches were the best. I always thought so. So I did twenty minutes on the elliptical using the handles,(because alas, I have no arm bicycle in my exercise room), and when I hopped off checked out the painting.

It still wasn't dry. I got dressed and went to lunch, camera in hand, with Honey to Birmingham, Detroit's movin' and shaken' Northern suburb where mullioned windows and therefore traditional art is favored. Maybe there'd be a good street shot?

No, all I got was the beautiful rose in the middle of our table at the trendy
Cafe Via, the quaint architects' offices along the way and a shot of Peabody's, a restaurant landmark for as long as I can remember. (This one would make a good colored pencil drawing,lovely subdued colors).

I missed the good city shots as we sped along Woodward where folks were staking out their spot in the shade with coolers and lawn chairs for The Dream Cruise weekend. Did see a hot Ford Thunderbird with a top notch restored silver and black finish, circa 1962 or so, with a pretty blond behind the wheel taking a test drive-- and enterprising restaurateurs setting up food concessions while the city set up comfort stations. The Dream Cruise weekend is a big deal for car enthusiasts from all over the country.I'll get a second chance today. We've got a lunch date in that area at the Beverly Hills Grill, another trendy spot for many years.

Anyway,the photos here aren't what I had in mind. I'll have to lose the car and Honey. For more on the Dream Cruise on Woodward and a bigger picture: Dream Cruise,Detroit News. (The painting was dry when I got home).

Cityscapes While I Wait

While waiting for Summer to dry and my camera to recharge. I looked through my photographs to find some city shots that might be worthy of drawing/painting time and effort. I found these four and put them together on a Publication sheet (since lining up photos with Chrome in that formation is impossible).

Two are from Greek Town in Detroit and two are from Puerto Vallarta. Of the four, I favor the street scene in Puerto Vallarta (lower left)second and the Liamon Cafe in Greek Townfirst. But I don't like mixing my cities when I'm thinking series. So camera outings will be scheduled. Over the next weeks, I decided to concentrate my attention in and around the Detroit area. City scenes will be perfect for the three twenty by twenty canvases waiting in the corner. Though not quite Labor Day, it isn't too early to line up fall/winter projects. After Pastries, Cityscapes makes two series. A total of six, seven paintings. A tad too ambitious--especially with Summer still in progress, but our winters are long.


Summer went through some interesting changes. After doing some work on it in the morning, I took it outside and hosed it off--too stark, too puzzle-like. I hit it with the jet stream and watched the morning splash into the grass. Then, dripping wet, I carried it back to the studio, laid it flat on the floor and began adding more dots, spraying more water as needed. I was painting wet into wet. The dots made with paint thinned with medium spread a bit and were transparent. They immediately softened the mosaic look as I knew they would. I worked in small portions, so there's more work to be done. But it was great being back on the floor. That's where the big boys (any size canvas three feet and bigger) belong.

Easel painting is new to me; I've painted on the floor my whole life, till my knees couldn't take it. Then, without a thought of anything but what I wanted to do, I just went back to it. It felt great. Continually circling the canvas checking the composition, I was in the picture. And the results of my new perspective were good.
Transparency over opacity was just the technique. I must have been ecstatic while lost in the doing, for Summer lost its shade.

Light Hearted

A lunch chatting and laughing with a friend always lifts the spirits especially when it's followed by a shopping spree where I found the black capped sleeve silk tee I'd been looking for two years and a very nice pair of Tahara leggings a size smaller than I wore the last spree. Lighter hearted I went back to the studio and the colors of sunlight grew lighter too. Still not totally satisfied, I'll keep at it till those canvases arrive from Dick Blick. Would you believe that nearly all of the gallery stretched canvas sizes are not in stock. Do people give up painting in the summer? What's up Dick?

I'm blown away by this new blog I'm following and you really should take a look: Acrylic and Light by Alvin Richard. This guy's acrylic paintings are a knock out.His style is photo realistic. And he started me really thinking about buying a projector.I can't believe this style is done totally free hand; this painting and his others are so perfectly detailed his photo has to have been projected onto a screen and then meticulously drawn and painted from there. I'm not really all that curious of what technology he used. While I am searching for one style that satisfies me enough to do it the rest of my life,(which seems important in the art world unless you're Picasso), Photo Realism isn't one of them. I just appreciate the artist who has that kind of patience and concentration. Mr. Richard's work is awesome. Do give him a minute.

My twenty minute sketch (an idea I got from The Twenty Minute Challenge), of a woman laughing isn't photo realism or awesome. I did it the first twenty minutes of Poltergeist, until Honey said, "They're here," an hour later, and we switched to Dark Blue. Wednesday TV sacks, I can certainly work in a twenty minute session if not some real prime time.

Contemporary is for Squares

I spent yesterday contemplating what was bothering me about Summer Shade. All day long I paced in front of it hoping the answer would just pop into my head. It did not. The problem nagged at me. I should have removed myself from the studio and read a book.

Instead, I went back to the original photograph. It was a rectangular photo of a clump of trees--a landscape. It was a traditional, rectangular landscape that I chose to paint on a contemporary square canvas and had done so too traditionally, too timidly to boot.

When I look out at my woods, all I see are dots, dashes, short broken lines, and solid forms that have been slashed apart by color/light, (they're one of the same, you know. You can't see color without light). Summer Shade needs more slashes, dashes, dots and the illusion of lines. I started in with it again this morning. The bottom portion hasn't been touched and is still too solid and dark. The left side isn't airy enough yet either. As much as I would have liked this painting to have been history in March, it's still in the works and not ready to leave the nest.

Whenever and Ruby Louise

Much to my surprise, whenever was yesterday for this landscape. I had pulled down Summer Shade from the wall a week or so ago to darken it up, but that didn't do it for me; it went dead. So I took another turn at it.

It still needs work--dots and dashes--mottled sunlight--forms made soft by the rays of light shooting across them--lots of colors-- complete ranges of dark and light playing against each other. So I'll just keep at it. It's going to be a slow go. Lot's of paint, a whole palette. I probably just thought the first finish was the end because it was a happy painting, looked like the woods with the wild flowers,people would like it, so GE, let it be.

But I couldn't. The more I looked at it, the more I thought it lacked depth. As much as I'd like to be able to knock off paintings, I can't. They have to feel right to me. This one didn't hold up after five months. What I'm aiming for is to have no desire to do another thing to it when I see it. I want to get it to the place where I'm amazed that I did that. The danger in wanting to feel self satisfied is I could either underwork or overwork a piece. Both conditions are what I call false finishes. I hate them.


Ruby Louise isn't going to be a done deal just like that either. She's leaning to the side from her waist, then twisting forward; her head is leaning and twisting further forward as well. But, there's a lot of evenings to listen to TV while working her out. (Last night I really liked The Big C; it hit home and Laura Linney was wonderful). The drawing will just take time. It's the peculiar pose of the body that makes me want to do this drawing. It's a life drawing challenge. Right now,she's just looking like a munchkin. Grid system here I come.

These artists knock a multitude of artists out of the ball park with their talent. They definitely know when their work is finished. Take a look at their hand made paper sculptures: http://www.popgive.com/2009/03/most-amazing-paper-sculptures.html Click on Indians.

BTW Project Search

I have a serious double portrait project, that will probably drive me crazy, ready to begin as soon as that d@@n canvas is delivered, (any time now they say). And a triptych I'm looking forward to doing and will begin immediately. My Backyard landscape series will remain on a back burner for whenever. Now,for the BTW portrait project--a pencil portrait of a kid, done in the evening distracted by the TV,(I like distractions; they stop me from thinking and encourage pure response).

Drawings of children, done in graphite or color pencil, are very calming done in the evening before bed. For that purpose, I began scouting out who's next. I thought of my grandson Zac having just seen him last Wednesday. I've only done four drawings of him over his fifteen years, (almost). It's time for another; he's a full two inches taller than me and shortly won't give us the time of day.

Then there's my niece's child Ruby Louise. (Don't you just love that name)? I have never met her,but she's extremely adorable and very photogenic--looks just like her mom, whom I'm very fond of.


I have no current photos of Zac that I consider worthy of time and effort. He's not camera shy. He just wants to remain NP. So be it. Ruby Louise wins.

A couple of years ago, I did this drawing of a kid I didn't know either. Her expression interested me, particularly her mouth; so I spent some time with her and my colored pencils). Any child is a subject matter that interests me no matter who they are. I've always liked kids. they're totally upfront. Innocence in it's best form. And very difficult to draw--they're soft and mushy, have no fully developed features that require hard lines for definition. They're not studied in art school. I'm studying them now.

RUBY LOUISE. FIRST STUDY. FIRST MESS.

I chose a great photo, taken by either her mom or grandmom, of a child in a difficult pose. Kept me struggling straight through Mad Men and Leverage; and was a real contest between my knead eraser and the drawing paper. Tonight, I plan to blow up her head with The Closer.



POSTSCRIPT:

About Mad Men. Whoever is researching it, is out of their mind. I was in my twenties in the sixties, the time period of this show. I was the same age as those "girls" working in that office. I had no idea of how to make coffee and if someone wanted a drink, they'd better have gotten it themselves. I do not recall any of the working women I knew behaving that wimpy way. I don't remember not speaking my mind or holding my tongue. And when I got pregnant, I said I was pregnant. I did not say "I was with child" nor did Honey describe that condition that way. We did wear stupid clothes-- Merry Widows, garter belts and girdles--and spent way too much time on our hair. But gave it all up well before flower children were dancing in the park half naked . Hair was written in 1964, the same year I bought my first bikini--low cut wired cups, lots of belly. The musical was about the hippie movement where hair was in big time and 116 pound bodies needed no restraints; nipples were hip. I maybe missing the point of this show about a world totally oblivious to what was really going on twenty seven floors below their offices--but it sure is a backward comedy to me. It would be interesting to hear the views of corporate women my age.

Coconut Cream Tarts

PRELIMINARY DRAWING TRIPTYCH TWO:



UNIT THREE OF THREE:



Aside from the extreme attack of hunger while drawing these pastries, they really made me happy. Not only could I have my cake and draw it too without gaining a pound, but the drawing shows me that the painting will be a very pleasant working experience.

I loved doing the pentykch, Out of The Closet; I'll love doing Chocolate Mice too. Working in units with forms and color, nearly completing one section before going on to the next, is very satisfying. Then having options on how coordinate the units and install them makes this multiple way of painting even more attractive;it plays to the designer in me who likes to push around the elements till pleased by the whole.

The itch of the matter is: I don't have this size canvas on order.(But I will when I'm done here). I do have one coming for my double portrait adventure, (still back ordered though); and I just received my box of twenty by twenties with no recall of how I wanted to use them.

So I've added my camera to the usual purse junk and have been out searching for subjects suitable for the square format. I should review Andy Warhol. Photography played a major part in his work process--as did the silk screen printing technique--albeit, a series of templates applied in a certain order. Aside from Jane, Liza and Marilyn type multiple head shots; he did do multiple flower assemblies...Humm.

Strawberry Layer Cake

Strawberry Layer Cake, Strawberry Tart and Carmel Chocolate Mouse Cake join the Chocolate Mice,as part two of my new triptych. Doing the drawing made me hungry. Honey and I went to dinner early last night.

Slideshow

A slideshow being down isn't very serious, but it's annoying. Something was missing from this page that should be here flickering on the side. I investigated the situation and found I wasn't alone, a lot of Google bloggers were complaining. I added my two cents and then spent some time organizing the My Art Picasaweb blog album--add this, delete that, move this here, move that there. My sorting and adding was like jurying my work for an art show. What was acceptable? What should be rejected?

The categories that turned up went across the board: portraiture, florals, abstractions, landscape and still lifes. Portraits were most abundant. Still lifes, least. Portraits, I always did, but florals and landscapes showed up when I moved to this condo in the middle of a nature preserve, in the middle of a city and at last had studio space--enough room to spread out.




Before that I lived in a couple apartments. In one space, with no room to be loose with the paint, I painted a nine foot by two foot geometric like a monk would--on unstretched canvas that I worked inch by inch across my desk like I was penning a scroll. I did it for my own decoration. It was couch art that was reflected at night in the giant windows over looking the city. From my seat on the couch, I could see the painting, the night lights of the city and watch TV at the same time. I chose nine feet because it would be great over my seating arrangement and that's as big a canvas as the elevator would take after it was stretched--I was thinking more like a designer and space planner than I was as an artist.

In the second apartment, I don't recall doing any painting at all except elaborate perspective drawings and specific furniture designs for clients. Those concept drawings sold for quite a bit--in the thousands--they were the documentation of building projects, without them, no construction. The remodeling/residential construction business was booming then, as was the real estate market and I was designing everyday, all day.




Then we got here and I got room to spread out and be me. The first painting I did is the one featured on top, Wall Street. I always did like cityscapes. They're architectural. They related to what I was doing in residential renovation. I did two more renditions before painting Gaillardia, florals. Glad to be back where there were beds to garden, my flowers became my main subject on studio weekends. Also my grandchildren who lived long distances away. In the evenings, I did pencil drawings of them to bring them closer. Pencil was neat and welcome in the great room while watching TV with Honey. AND I was a hell of a lot better with it than I was with knitting needles.

And here I am, pretty much out of design work, blogging and drawing or painting daily to occupy time till what? Wall street settles down, everybody feels secure, jobs return to Michigan, and the real estate market recovers along with construction? I have my doubts.

So my slideshow disappeared and I got a chance to take a hard look at my artistic efforts. I like the portraits--heads primarily. Good for small works. Then the draftsman/designer in me likes square canvases,(grid system mentality I suppose,)and multiple unit paintings. I can build with these, use color and canvas structures spatially, and be playful if I want. Out of the jungle, happily in my studio,I really like playful--and apparently pastries.